Your erotic stories

It was tradition among our friends to camp out in Jake's backyard at least once every summer. Jake had a giant tent, with three rooms and two closets. The first time we ever set it up it took us two hours. Working under the hot summer sun, joking and sweating, we were confident and untouchable. We were seniors this year, nearing maturity, working out every chance we had. Needless to say, we were very in shape.

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My name is Dylan, and I'm a rapist...or at least I thought I was. Lying there in the dark, pretending to be asleep and listening for the tell-tale crackle of a police walkie-talkie from outside my apartment door, I wondered if Samantha was still in her bedroom. Wondered if she'd called the cops to tell them her roommate had raped her, or if she'd fled the apartment and was banging on our neighbors' doors, desperately trying to find someone who'd help her.

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"Jesus!" I bleated in my wife's ear while watching her best friend, Melissa, pull her husband's giant cock out of his shorts. They were only a few feet away from us, snuggling up on the couch across from our own, but tonight they were taking their exhibitionism to new heights. Melissa and Tommy had come over to hang out, something we've done countless times before, but, tonight things got a little heated, and it all seemed to start before I even got home from work.

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Paul had a little trouble finding Kaylee's apartment building and he was almost twenty minutes late by the time he finally reached her door. It was bad enough being flustered by having taken a wrong turn while following the directions he had been given but, as he pressed the doorbell, he discovered he was distinctly nervous indeed. Kaylee's website specified several massage specialties but, although the text was suitably noncommittal and vague, it was clear that they were all of the more erotic variety.

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I had sold a run-down house to Cory Tomas a few years ago. He is about forty-five, is a local truck driver, has a big beer belly, is a good poker player and seems to be a good father to his pre-teen kids when they stay with him every other weekend. Of course I also know his financial situation, but other than those things, I only know that he always seems to have a reasonably pretty, shy woman with him. Each one would stay a few months and then there would be a new one. One day he told me about the free Texas Hold'em tournaments at one of our local bars.

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Boone, Mississippi. 1976. September In the middle of the night Ginny woke with her bare feet burning and itching something fierce. When she swung her coltish legs out from under the sheets and pulled her knees up tight to her chest, she found her ankles littered with sore, red welts. Ginny rubbed at her big eyes in the hot darkness, trying to rouse herself.

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Denise lived next door to my family as I grew up in a small city in Australia. She was married to a guy who never grew up, drank a lot and treated her poorly. Their home was littered with his empty beer bottles and her empty dreams. My Dad would often say she was a pretty woman who deserved a whole lot better in life. Denise was originally a country girl and in Australia that meant there was a certain something about her.

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Laura swung her hips back and forth as the music resonated in the small office. She spun around on her three inch black leather heels like a seasoned stripper, reaching for the back of a chair to balance herself as she bent over thrusting her gorgeous slim, tight ass upwards and towards him. The top buttons of her blouse were undone and the black lace of her bra was visible between the white silk fabric of the blouse as she continued her sexy striptease.

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I kissed my wife good-bye. Then I watched as the car pulled out of the driveway of our beach rental with her and my sister. I didn't waste time before I pulled on some swim trunks and headed down to the shore. I made my way across the street and up the public access out to the beach. There was nearly no one around as made my way across the sand. It was no wonder, the waves were pounding hard on shore and the water was still too cold for swimming long this early in the season.

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Saturday mornings must have something special in them, they seem so much better than all the rest, and this fine Saturday morning was no different. It was six in the morning and I was just finishing my last minute packing for the camping trip. My best friend from high school, Jake Ryan, had invited me on a camping trip with his family.

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